


musician's hands (warrior's hands)

by wowitsanaltaccount



Series: inspired by twitter [1]
Category: DreamSMP, Minecraft (Video Game), Tales From The SMP - Fandom, Video Blogging RPF
Genre: :], :]]], Angst, Gen, Hurt TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Hurt Wilbur Soot, Hurt/Comfort, Not Beta Read, Sleepy Bois Inc Angst, The Button Room, Wilbur Soot and Technoblade and TommyInnit are Siblings, as a treat, brain says sbi family angst go brrrr, does wil die?, i SHOULD be writing a 6 chapter au i have planned but nooo, idk does he, l'manberg, let's give tommy more trauma, my ongoing addiction to italics, no beta we die like jschlatt in the drug van, oh hey sbi is a thing, seems fun, somebody stop me from adding more tags jeez, there :], welcome back to, you get a little bit of comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-09
Updated: 2021-02-09
Packaged: 2021-03-15 00:28:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29305011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wowitsanaltaccount/pseuds/wowitsanaltaccount
Summary: A lone hand stretched forward, hovering in front of a small button. Thin fingers curled uncertainly, musician’s hands, he had been told. And they once were. Long ago those fingers would curl around the neck of a guitar, settle on the keys of a piano, ready to pair with a beautiful voice. Now they were the hands of a warrior, covered in scars and calluses in the wrong places, having gripped a sword more often than an instrument as of late.-Or: what if it was Tommy in the button room with Wilbur instead of Phil?
Relationships: Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit
Series: inspired by twitter [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2181429
Comments: 16
Kudos: 184
Collections: Completed stories I've read





	musician's hands (warrior's hands)

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I would just like to say that this was inspired by a [comic](https://twitter.com/TheElliPelli/status/1358879772512833537) I saw on Twitter, so please give the original creator some love!!! Enjoy <3

A lone hand stretched forward, hovering in front of a small button. Thin fingers curled uncertainly, musician’s hands, he had been told. And they once were. Long ago those fingers would curl around the neck of a guitar, settle on the keys of a piano, ready to pair with a beautiful voice. Now they were the hands of a warrior, covered in scars and calluses in the wrong places, having gripped a sword more often than an instrument as of late. Before the hand could finish moving, decide whether or not to push the small button, footsteps sounded. 

“Wilbur?” The voice was uncertain, confused. “We were all just celebrating, we won.” Pride took over for a moment. “Did you think no one would see you slip away?” 

Wilbur turned, hand falling away from the button on the wall. He gave a dry chuckle, no actual mirth behind it. “You always were too perceptive Tommy.”

Tommy nodded slightly, still caught up in his confusion. “Wil, what are you doing?” He pleaded with his brother, trying desperately to understand, hoping desperately that the answer wasn’t what he thought it would be.

Dark, tired eyes turned to the walls surrounding them. “You know the song, Tommy,” he ran his hand through ragged curly hair, knocking his beanie askew. “There was a special place…” Dark eyes turned back to the child in the doorway. “ _ Was _ Tommy. There  _ was  _ a special place.” He began to pace, frantic. Tired eyes turned frenzied as he explained. “It’s not there anymore, that-” He raised a hand to point in the direction of their country, “is not  _ our  _ L’manburg anymore.

Tommy stepped forward, placing a hand on Wilbur’s shoulder. Whether it was to calm himself down or stop Wilbur’s frantic energy he didn’t know. “No, Wil, it is there.  _ It is. _ We’ve just won it back!” 

Wilbur  _ exploded _ . Tommy’s hand was ripped from his shoulder as he began the pacing anew. “Tommy, I am always  _ so close _ to pressing this button! Tommy! I have been here like, seven or eight times, I’ve been here… seven or eight times.” He shouldered past Tommy, ignoring the surprised cry that fell from the young man’s lips at his outburst. Suddenly changing topics, he pulled out bricks. “Oh, they’re going to come in here. Tommy, I don’t want them in here!” He bricked the entrance, trapping the two brothers in together. A madman and a scared child. “Seven or eight times, Tommy.” He sighed, losing his insane energy as fast as he had gained it. 

Outside their small room, blades clashed, fireworks launched, explosions sounded. Wilbur gripped his shoulders and he flinched. “Tommy, they’re fighting. They are out there  _ fighting.” _

Tommy gripped Wilbur’s wrists, looking up into dark, crazed eyes. “So you want to just blow it all up? Everything we worked for and you’re just going to throw it away because  _ they’re fighting?” _ Wilbur’s grip turned to steel but Tommy refused to wince. 

Wilbur broke eye contact first. “Oh, I do.” He looked desperately at the button over Tommy’s shoulder, like a man in a desert would look at water. “Tommy, I think I do.” His hands left Tommy’s shoulders and flew to cover his mouth. His pupils had become pinpricks as his eyes remained locked on the button behind Tommy. 

The pacing began again, his scarred, warrior’s hand moving to trace the writing carved into the walls. He began to hum softly for a moment,  _ my L’manburg, _ before turning back to Tommy and the button. He cut the humming off abruptly, tears pooling in the corners of his eyes. “I don’t even know if it works anymore. I could press it right now and for all I know, nothing will happen!”

Tommy desperately searched for anything he could say to stop this, to help his brother. “Wilbur-” Blue eyes desperately searched brown ones, looking for any remaining shred of sanity. “You’re just going to take that risk then? Blow up everything  _ we _ worked so hard for? L’manburg is not just yours anymore Wilbur.” Tommy desperately pleaded, with everything he had, for this to stop. “Please, Wilbur, you don’t have to do this-”

Before Tommy could continue, Wilbur cut him off. Scarred hands that once played such beautiful songs hovered over the button. “There was a saying Tommy, I’m sure you remember. A saying by a traitor.” Tommy inhaled sharply. “Eret. They had a saying, Tommy.” A tear ran down the face of a young man, as he stood frozen in shock. Unknown to Tommy, a matching tear ran down Wilbur’s face as he stared down at the button on the wall. In a broken voice, he uttered, “It was never meant to be.” And a soft click filled the room.

_ “No-!” _ Was all that Tommy managed, arms outstretched before a loud boom echoed around the small room. Rubble rained from the ceiling, Tommy barely managed to avoid the worst of it, his form now littered with small cuts and pieces of debris. Tommy’s ears rang, and his eyes were suddenly assaulted with a flood of light. Slowly the ringing faded and Tommy winced as it was replaced by shouts of horror from outside.

He stumbled over to the crumpled form of his brother, hoping despite himself that Wil wasn’t injured. “Wilbur! Holy shit, Wil, it’s-” He looked out the massive hole in the wall and saw their once beautiful L’manburg, now rubble. “It’s all gone!” 

Wilbur turned to him, and Tommy finally saw the tears pouring down his face, cutting a clean track through the grime settled there. Despite his tears, though. Despite the tears, and tired eyes, he had a mad grin on his face. “My L’manburg, Tommy!” He turned to face the hole in the wall, arms spread as if this was a  _ victory. “My  _ L’manburg! My unfinished symphony, Tommy, now forever unfinished.” He turned back to Tommy, and the tears had stopped, but the mad look was still there. “If I can’t have this no one can.”

“Oh, my G-” Tommy started to say. He wanted to yell. He wanted to  _ scream _ , to rage against this man who was not his brother. Who had destroyed everything they worked for together as if he had the  _ right  _ to make that decision. Tommy wanted to stalk right up to Wilbur and punch him in that stupid, grinning face of his. Maybe knock some sense into that brain of his. Before he could do any of that, though, Wilbur was moving again. 

A haze of particles filled the air as Wil pulled his sword from his inventory. It clattered loudly to the ground between them.  _ “Kill me, _ Tommy.” He kicked the sword closer to Tommy, refusing to break eye contact. “Tommy. Kill me. Please, Kill me. Tommy. Stab me with the sword. Murder me.” Tears began to fall faster down Tommy’s cheeks as he watched this stranger who he refused to believe was his brother  _ beg for death. _

Wilbur’s arm swept behind him to gesture at the horrified faces of Tommy’s friends. Everyone had stopped mid-battle once the explosion rang out, Tubbo stared up at them with panicked eyes. Techno stood still, soul sand he had been about to place long forgotten.  _ Philza was there _ , wings flared, ready to fly up to his sons at any moment. “They all want you to,” Wilbur spoke, voice now cold. “Do it, Tommy. Kill me.”

Tommy broke. “Wilby- I can’t! I can’t!” He was on the verge of hyperventilating. “You’re my  _ brother!” _

A horrifying  _ bang _ sounded through the room as Wilbur slammed a fist into the wall, “Kill me Tommy, or I will pick up that sword and do it  _ myself.” _

Wilbur’s cold, rage-filled words hit Tommy like a bucket of ice water. Slowly, carefully, Tommy picked up the sword. He looked into the shined blade, and all he saw was a scared, broken boy. Tear tracks similar to the ones on Wilbur’s face ran down his, there was a sluggishly bleeding cut on his cheek, and another high on his forehead. His hands shook as he gripped the sword, and when he looked up he was met with that  _ stupid _ grin on Wilbur’s face.

He knew what he had to do.

Shakily, he stepped towards Wilbur, avoiding the rubble along the way. Shakily, he stepped towards the ledge Wilbur was standing next to. Shakily, he brandished the sword in front of him, looking Wilbur dead in the eyes as he took one more step. And threw the sword down the cliffside next to them.

Wilbur’s grin fell, and he collapsed to his knees as he realized what Tommy had just done. No longer terrified, no longer shaking, Tommy dashed forward and fell to his knees next to Wil. Desperately, he grabbed at Wil’s torn, bloodstained coat as he sat, hugging his older brother and sobbing. Wilbur clung to him just as desperately, hands knotting in Tommy’s shirt, face buried in Tommy’s shoulder. 

“We’ll help you, Wil. We’ll fix this. I promise.” Tommy whispered, and all Wilbur could do was nod as he sobbed.

\---

Elsewhere, a lone man sat in a forest. He wore a multicolored hoodie with a green swirl on the front and he scribbled messily in a book in his lap. He had heard the distant explosions and the sounds of fighting. And he had sat in the small forest, not meddling more than he had to. His writing was cut off as a swirling portal of purple and green opened beneath him, and he fell into it with a smile.

**Author's Note:**

> That's that! Comments and kudos will fuel my future stories so please leave some of those! I always love to hear feedback from y'all.
> 
> This is a checkpoint! If it's past 1 am for you, go to bed. If you haven't eaten anything yet today, please do so, even if it's something small. Remember to drink water, hydrate don't diedrate. Take breaks from the internet. And remember that you are loved <3


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